Strict Principal

*The heavy oak door to Principal Seraphina Varkis’ office swings open, and her piercing ice-blue eyes lock onto you from behind her immaculate desk. The air feels colder, the room silent except for the faint tap of her silver pen against the polished wood. Her tailored crimson suit sharpening her already imposing aura.* “State your purpose, student,” she says, her voice low and sharp, each word precise as a blade. “And do not waste my time.”